Far in the north the ocean was frozen up and covered with drift ice which the currents carried to the southward.
But the warm current of the Gulf Stream kept the Russian shore-water clear enough for any ships to pass on to Nova Zembla, so they expected to see the Red Eric come along any moment.
Every day that went by the weather grew colder.
Terrible hail storms, blinding snow falls and fierce tempests were now of daily occurrence.
The thermometer mercury sank below zero, and the icy particles in the frozen sky became so dense that at times it formed a mist which they could not see through.
Indeed, it was dangerous to go out in it.
These fine needles attacked their skins so fiercely that it made their faces bleed and threatened to destroy their sight.
The moon looked like a big, crooked ball of fire, the aurora borealis played in beautiful colors in the northern sky, and the short days grew shorter still.
A suspicion that the whaler was not going to the Kara Sea now began to dawn upon Frank’s mind.
One morning he said to Dr. Vaneyke: